


The Disappearance

by 221bMoonunit



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 02:27:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4648776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221bMoonunit/pseuds/221bMoonunit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story deals with the aftermath of something dark and horrible that comes from the orginal Sherlock Holmes story 'The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax'. I don't explain who or why someone kidnaps our Molly and places her in a coffin with a corpse and buries her alive. Sherlock saves her, and we are reading the aftermath of such an awful thing. This is a love story between Sherlock and Molly. Be warned it's a bit weird and well, I wrote it so it might not be all that good...but what the hell right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Of course I own nothing of Sherlock. Except bills lots of damn bloody bills!
> 
> Hello, dear readers this story is an odd one. I thought of this while in the hospital, scared and in lots of pain. I’m doing better (I’m out and doing okay) but still at times…I’m annoyed with my body. Anyway, before surgery and after I attempted to go to my happy place which is Sherlock Holmes. The original stories danced as well as my own and other talented stories …in my mind and while in crazy pain…This story came to me. It’s…weird. Very weird!
> 
> It’s going to have four parts, maybe even five. It’s a bit dark but the dark part is what I took from a Holmes story by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle….The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax.
> 
> I don’t go into how or why Molly was taken in this story but I deal with the aftermath. Those that are not familiar or simply need a friendly reminder Frances Carfax was placed inside a coffin with a corpse and nearly buried alive. In my story Molly is the one in the coffin and she was buried alive. Sherlock as in the original saves the Lady or in this case his lady. The story I’m writing as I’ve stated deals with the aftermath and how Sherlock and Molly will end up together…happily ever after. For there will be a happy ending.
> 
> Anyway, for better or worse…sadly I do hope it’s not for the worse…
> 
> I do hope some of you will enjoy. Be well and countless hugs.

 

~*~The Disappearance~*~

 

~*~Part 1 ~*~

 

_‘Who knows, Watson? Woman’s heart and mind are insoluble puzzles to the male…’_

 

-The Illustrious Client by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

 

_‘She is a stray chicken in a world of foxes.’_

 

-The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

 

~*~SHERLOCK~*~

 

“This is not your Y-cut.” Sherlock Holmes stated looking down at the body upon the slab at Bart’s Morgue; with a dark upset frown as if not seeing Molly’s own personal Y-cut before him…Was somehow a personal affront to everything that he might have held dear.

 

Molly Hooper simply blinked at him numbly before she pointed out quite reasonably, “You know that there are others here that work on bodies, Sherlock. I am in no way expected to work on every single body that comes through that door. It would in no way be possible or even logical.”

 

Sherlock shot her an annoyed look before explaining, “Personally, I prefer it when _you_ work on the bodies for whatever case I’m working on.”

 

“You know that can’t always happen! Plus, no one around here is a psychic. No one knows which body is going to interest you from day by day.” Unknowingly Molly’s tone was completely unemotional, her face closed off and blank. So unlike her normal self that it made Sherlock straighten sharply. His frown much deeper as his unblinking eyes studied her closely.

 

A second later something flashed quickly within his intelligent eyes before Sherlock ended up looking honestly confused for a brief moment. He shifted awkwardly upon his feet, which seemed so rare for him, before he cleared his throat.

 

“So…How are you?” He questioned. There seemed to be genuine concern in his voice, there was none of his normal disdain.

 

Eventually, after a long staring contest that Molly lost she replied remotely, not even sure she even cared really…”Do you _really_ want to know?”

 

She had no idea that her tone was just as emotionless…So unlike her, until recently that is.

 

Sherlock gave her a genuine look of puzzlement, as if he had suddenly stumbled upon something that he would never quite understand.

 

The look cleared as he took a deep breath before saying… “Well, yes. So tell me, are you better? Have you _finally_ gotten over being buried alive with a corpse?”

 

Molly went utterly motionless before saying softly and coldly, “Get out.”

 

“Ah, I’m guessing that I should take that as a ‘no’ then? When do you think you’ll get over it?” Sherlock asked.

 

“GET OUT!” Molly thundered as she gestured towards the door. This time her eyes and face as well as her tone was actually full of life.

 

Which Sherlock thought was an improvement.

 

“But I’m still looking at Abernetty’s body!” He protested.

 

“You get the hell out of here, Sherlock, now before I slap you so hard your teeth will still be rattling for a whole week afterwards!” Molly told him quite heatedly, her dark eyes glittered with anger. At least her coldness and her unnatural emotionlessness seemed to have finally disappeared.

 

Sherlock blinked at her slowly with a completely blank look on his face before he turned around and left her alone without a word.

 

Molly found herself taking some deep breaths before putting the body away. Later when she put her ungloved hands to her face she found her cheeks wet with tears.

 

Sometime later Molly heard a soft tapping at her door that lead into her small and to be honest a bit messy office. She was busy with paperwork that never seemed to ever go away no matter how much she did…

 

Go away…Perhaps she should simply go away….Molly couldn’t help but think. Perhaps somewhere far away from London…Far away from _everything_ , in fact…including Sherlock.

 

Was it so wrong to just go somewhere? Anywhere? But where? She knew she had a hell of a lot of holiday time that some of the higher ups thought she should take…Yet, surely it was a mad impulse? Completely mad! But…Maybe, just maybe it was an impulse that needed to happen. Hell, she had recently learned that good things can indeed come from impulses. Good wonderful things…

 

“Come in.” She told whoever was knocking. To see the familiar face of Sherlock’s best friend, John Watson. He gifted her a soft smile.

 

Molly tossed down her black pen before guessing, her voice was quite weary, “Sherlock wants to come back and see the body but thought it best to send you to ask?”

 

John rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, moving into the small office. “Actually, no. He no longer needs the body. He solved the Abernetty case by how much a piece of parsley had sunk into the butter. Supposedly the fact that it was a very hot day when he had been murdered mattered…Looks as if the nephew did it.”

 

Molly nodded, quite thankful that she no longer needed to feel so bloody guilty about throwing Sherlock out of Bart’s morgue.

 

“Well…You see, I thought I’d stop by and…well…” John began looking charmingly flustered.

 

“Check upon me?” Molly decided to take a guess once more. Not at all offended that he would check up on her…she wondered for a second if Sherlock was the one to ask John to check up on her…surely he didn’t, not Sherlock…but what if he had? And if he had…what could that possibly mean? Perhaps, she was simply over thinking it.

 

“You are surrounded by people who care, Molly.” John stated as if he thought she was questioning his and other people’s concern…Yet it wasn’t _his_ concern she was actually questioning.

 

Molly sighed before muttering, “I know…”

 

“And Sherlock cares.” As John said this she shot him a look. So he continued, “He does. About a couple of hours ago he expressed to me that he may have said something ‘not good’. He has never been the type of man who has ever worried about what he blurts out when he is being himself. Which is always, the arse, but no matter what _he does care_. Especially when it comes…to you.”

 

Molly looked away. Sometimes she wondered if that was true. Lately however…

 

Suddenly she felt a bit angry, not really knowing way. “Fine. Lovely! Everyone cares especially the great Sherlock Holmes!”

 

Molly stood from her chair, wishing she could storm out of the room. She knew she wasn’t being logical. She didn’t really even understand why at time she became so angry or…or suddenly so afraid. Her hands tightened into fists before she continued, “Don’t you think I want to be fine? You think I don’t see how Sherlock looks at me as if expecting me to suddenly be my old self once more?”

 

She wondered at the rare times she could have sworn she saw disappointment and sadness cross his face when he studied her…Or the brief flashes of anger in those beautiful sharp hawk like eyes of his.

 

“Molly…” John attempted to cut into her thoughts…

 

She continued, “Don’t you think I’m _trying_ to be better? To get better? Don’t you think I would prefer that those nightmares I’ve been having would simply go away? You and I both know I was buried alive, John with a corpse and for Sherlock…For Sherlock to just believe I should just…just ‘get over it’…You think that too, don’t you? Well, how about you just go to hell and take your best mate with you!”

 

“I have never said or even thought for a moment that you should ‘get over it’.” John stated moving a few steps closer. “You can yell at me, hell, yell at the heavens if it will make you feel better! Talk to a therapist, I can give you the number of the one I have been known to use. Throw things. Hate Sherlock and me for not rescuing you much sooner. We tried, damn it! We…Sherlock did his bloody best! He was brilliant and a bit scary as well. He didn’t want to admit it, perhaps he even hated himself but he was so incredibly angry that you were taken. There was a dangerous, ice cold fury about him…He was desperate to get to you sooner, Molly…”

 

Molly covered her face with her shaking hands before slowly removing them to look at John. “I don’t hate you or Sherlock. I’m even grateful…I am…You both rescued me right on time. You both couldn’t have done better. I’m not sure what is wrong with me…One minute I feel so emotionless and so cold and the next my emotions are out of control…going every which way! I know I’m having a hard time, at the moment…I’m adjusting but I’m certain I will get better but no matter what Sherlock may expect I won’t get better overnight and annoys me that he even thinks I will…or even should. I am hopeful that I will get better. I _want_ to get better…I _have_ to get better.”

 

She hated the fact that she was having problems with enclosed places. She hated this new fear with a passion…The sudden panic attacks… Always looking over her shoulder wondering if someone was going to surprise her and kidnap her once more…The nights that she would wake up in a sweat, shaking and feeling as if her heart was trying to escape her chest.

 

“You have plenty of time to get better, Molly.” John attempted to comfort her. “Life is never so much the struggle of good against evil, life is actually the struggle of surviving day by day with bad things that come our way.”

 

After a brief respite she asked with a very weak smile, “Did your therapist say that to you?”

 

John nodded, “Pretty much, yes.”

 

“Oh…I’m thinking of going away on a holiday. Get away from London for a bit. I have a lot of time that has built up over time so…” Molly shrugged, continuing very seriously. “Maybe leaving will help me.”

 

Leave London…Leave _Sherlock_ …The thought sent a slight jab of pain to her heart.

 

John shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked on his heels slightly. “I’m not certain that leaving London will help you any in the long run, Molly.”

 

“I’d come back…Maybe…” Molly stated softly, quite sadly.

 

Even if she did leave where would she go? She wanted to go somewhere…Safe…and even if she liked people she wanted to go where there wasn’t much people around. Where she could relax with her cat yet go for nice country walks that weren’t filled with heavy foot traffic.

 

John shook his head, eyeing her with deep concern. “It’s your life and you do deserve to take a lovely holiday, sure…but remember, wherever you go you will be taking yourself with you.”

 

If John wasn’t careful he’d sound like a therapist!

 

“I know. Hell, even if I wanted to go on holiday. I’m uncertain about where to go. I want it to be peaceful and quiet…maybe a nice little cottage out in the middle of nowhere…as if I could ever find ‘nowhere’! John I need to deal with all this crazy stuff that is going on inside me…Plus…” Molly bit her lip briefly before she decided to admit something that she hadn’t revealed to anyone yet. “John…I’m pregnant.”

 

John turned so horribly pale. “Good Lord! The bastard that kidnapped you didn’t…didn’t…rape you, did he?”

 

“NO! Goodness, no.” Molly quickly told him. Suddenly realizing that John had known that she hadn’t been seeing anyone months before the kidnapping had taken place and after the kidnapping…Nothing…Except for one night… _The_ one night…

 

“No, I really didn’t spend much time with my kidnapper. He simply drugged me, placed me in a coffin that already held a dead body and buried me alive. It wasn’t until later that I became pregnant. You see after Sherlock and you saved the day…He, um, took me home…”

 

John inhaled deeply with extremely wide eyes. Shock…Surprise…Radiating from every pore. “Are you saying that…that Sherlock…”

 

A part of her wanted to laugh. She pressed her hand lovingly to her belly. Happiness and joy filled her and the smile she flashed him was true. “Yes. I’m having a baby and it’s Sherlock’s.”

 

~*~End of Part 1~*~

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be warned this part has some smut. It’s not porn smut or too graphic smut but there is some nice loving smut. Might make some uncomfortable but I don’t think it’s bad uncomfortable. It’s simply a flashback of Sherlock and Molly the night they made love…So…um…yeah…maybe you’ll enjoy?

 

~*~The Disappearance~*~

 

~*~Part 2 ~*~

 

Molly _: What do you need?_

 

Sherlock: _You._

 

-The Reichenbach Fall. Sherlock. Season 2, ep. 3

 

_‘…She is the most harmless and often the most useful of mortals…’_

 

-The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

 

~*~SHERLOCK~*~

 

“What? You are having Sherlock’s baby? _Sherlock Holmes?!_ H-How did _that_ happen?” John asked after he was able to find his voice.

 

Molly gifted him a small smile and there was now a slight twinkle of mischief in her dark beautiful eyes. “Well, doctor, surely you know how making babies happen…Hell, you even have a daughter but if you don’t know…There is something called sex and trust me the night in question…The sex was quite good! Though if you are asking ‘how’ did Sherlock and I…ended up…together…having quite good sex…” Molly paused for a moment.

 

If John was looking into her eyes he would have noticed that she was now lost in a memory.

 

“That’s a bit private…” She finally replied softly, still lost in a pleasant memory. “But that night…I needed him, really needed him…and…well…”

 

She would always remember that night. Always.

 

~*~SH~*~SH~*~

 

Molly felt cold. So very cold.

 

With her shaking hands she attempted to gather the blanket the paramedics had given her earlier tightly around her. Molly glanced over at Sherlock.

 

There he was standing so straight and tall near her. His face a beautiful cold mask yet his eyes…So intelligent, so very sharp and focused…they were so very alive!

 

Molly couldn’t help but wish she could feel alive herself…Or even feel warm once more instead of feeling this ice cold numbness that seemed to sink deeper into her bones and heart with every passing second.

 

Molly feared she’d never feel warm again.

 

Sherlock had rescued her and got her out of that blasted coffin…A coffin that already had a corpse inside it.

 

Sherlock had also got her away from the police, Lestrade, and others demanding answers as well as the paramedics with their concern…

 

While still in a daze she had dimly heard details of how Sherlock caught and handled her kidnapper. All she had known was that he had gotten her out of the coffin and out of the ground…He had found her. Then he was surprisingly never far from her side. If she had been thinking more clearly she might have questioned it…wondered it’s meaning…but…all she could think about was how cold she was and wonder why she couldn’t control herself from shaking.

 

His hands were filthy with dirt and his face was slightly bruised…Yet he remained close by. His face was a hard pale stone with eyes that watched her so very carefully.

 

Honestly she wasn’t sure _why_ he watched her. She was even surprised that he hadn’t simply turned and walked away thinking that another case was solved so back to Baker Street and wait for another case interesting enough to intrigue him. 

 

Yet, he hadn’t done that. He stood close by as if waiting. For what, Molly would never know but the second she whispered to Lestrade who had been so gentle and kind towards her that she wanted to go home…that she no longer wanted to deal with his questions or overwhelming concern…

 

Sherlock had suddenly been there, growling and snapping at Lestrade and everyone else. Saying that if Molly was up to talking then she’d do so when she was ready and not before. Tonight, however, she was going home.

 

She vaguely remembers him carefully and a little awkwardly putting his arm around her and leading her away from everyone…Away from all the lights, noise, and questions…

 

Molly didn’t even remember the cab ride except she was certain that she rested against him. Her still shaking hands had desperately grabbed at his lovely wool Belstaff.

 

Normally, one could tell Sherlock didn’t like much contact with people but he had not stiffened in distaste or even attempted to pull away. In fact his arms seemed to help pull her closer. They never once spoke a word.

 

Other than Sherlock giving the cabbie Molly’s address, nothing else had been said. Not even when Sherlock walked her to her door. Still touching her this time with a strong kind hand upon her arm and staying quite close.

 

He opened the door to her flat, Molly wasn’t sure if he had quickly picked her lock or had taken her key. Not that it mattered really. All that mattered was he was still by her side.

 

He helped her inside and even turned on her light. Sherlock shoved his hands into his coat’s pockets to silently study her for a while.

 

Molly simply stood there in her flat. Now hopefully safe yet she still was feeling so frozen yet emotionally raw at the same time…She felt uncertain. She was wanting…Longing to suddenly feel alive once more. She bit her lip.

 

She watched Sherlock suddenly move around her flat. Looking around and turning on the rest of her lights. It was as if he wanted to show her that everything was alright that she was indeed safe once more. She even dimly heard him speak to Toby and filled his food bowl as well as gave him fresh water. When he came back to Molly’s side she hadn’t moved a muscle.

 

Sherlock sighed and ran a hand roughly through his curls and for a moment he actually looked uncertain, yet his beautiful eyes regarded hers steadily.

 

“Molly…” He finally asked very softly. “Do you… _need_ anything?”

 

Molly simply stared at him. Yes. She needed… _Something_ …Actually she needed more than _something_ …More than _anything_ …She needed…needed Sherlock. Her Sherlock.

 

Molly finally moved, taking a few hesitant steps towards him before stopping as close as she dared. Wondering if she should even…perhaps…could she? Tell him what she suddenly needed…yearned for in fact?

 

Sherlock leaned in even closer to gently take her by the shoulders.

 

“Molly, talk to me…Do you need anything?” He repeated his question. Oh, his voice…His simple touch made her long to feel warm again. Made her yearn to beg that he help her feel alive…Make her feel human again…She wanted to believe in miracles and happy endings and that in the end of the day she was going to be just fine.

 

She didn’t want to think about the fact that she had been buried alive with a corpse…or that she felt this overwhelming fear that she wondered if it would ever go away.

 

 

 

Yes, she was safe now. Free from that horrible coffin but why did she still feel trapped inside that very coffin that Sherlock had rescued her from?

 

Molly needed…God she needed something…Something only Sherlock could give her…Himself.

 

“You.” Molly finally found herself admitting out loud. Tone was soft and certain. There was no doubt at all what she wanted…needed.

 

With wet eyes her hands reached out to grab at his tall strong body. So steadfast and solid…so warm. She knew with a faith that could move mountains that Sherlock could make her warm. Make her feel alive and human…He could drive away the horrible painful coldness that she was experiencing.

 

“I…I needed _you_ , Sherlock, please I need you.” Molly replied in a desperate whisper.

 

Sherlock pulled her close to him as he promised her, “You have me, Molly. See, I’m right here and you are completely safe now.”

 

Molly closed her eyes and held him just as tight. Breathing in his wonderful masculine scent. Yearning for him to truly understand what she was saying.

 

“Sherlock…” She breathed his name before saying more clearly. “You are such a brilliant man. So very brilliant and I lov—like that about you.”

 

She opened her eyes as he spoke two simple words. “I know.”

 

Molly pulled back a tad bit to look into his eyes before admitting, “Unlike you, I enjoy feeling human.”

 

She felt him stiffen against her yet she continued, “I do see it, you know, your human side. Especially when you think no one is watching. I even understand and respect your need to guard yourself. I really do. I even understand your coldness, your cruelty or even your need to manipulate to get what you want.”

 

Molly reached up and lovely touched his face. She noticed that he didn’t even flitch or pull away. Oh how she loved him. A part of her was wishing he could love her right back. Yet knowing Sherlock would never…could never love her in return.

 

Unlike him she didn’t mind emotions. However right now she felt nothing. Just what seemed to be a never ending coldness.

 

“I really wouldn’t change a thing about you.” Molly told him honestly. “Except your need for drugs…or when you knowingly hurt your friends.”

 

“Molly there are perfectly logical reasons for that...and I haven’t in a long—“Sherlock attempted to tell her before she pressed her fingertips to his lips. Molly shook her head; she didn’t want to get into all that. Not now. At this moment the great consulting detected needed to understand what she was saying.

 

She needed _him_ …

 

“I love you and I honestly don’t care if all you can give me is your friendship. I’ll take it and accept it like I have always accepted everything from you.” Molly decided to be even more honest with him as she felt tears start to fall.

 

For some reason the coldness within her had deepened and soon she’ll be nothing more than ice. She’d become a shell perhaps never feeling anything ever again and that thought almost scared her.

 

She could easily be dead inside and she didn’t want others to wonder if it had really been for the best that Sherlock had gotten her out of the coffin.

 

Sherlock took her cold shaking fingers from his lips and brushed a small chaste kiss against the palm of her hand.

 

“I know.” Sherlock informed her softly with a sad note in his tone, before he let her hand go so he could carefully wipe away her tears.

 

Of course, the great Sherlock Holmes would know _this_. It’s his business to know what others don’t know…Yet Molly suspected that others also knew of her love for Sherlock.

 

Sherlock, who sometimes misses some things, couldn’t miss that. Not after everything they had gone through together…and what she had done for him and would always be willing to do for him, time and time again. She loved him no matter how many times she tried to move on. She still did. It was as if she couldn’t help herself. She’d do anything for him. Risk her career, her life, hell even her very soul.

 

She blinked at him before replying, still hating this coldness that was within her. Spreading to her hurting and possibly damaged soul. “You once needed me…Do you still?”

 

This time it was Sherlock who blinked, it actually made him look quite charming when he did that. “Of course! I will always need you! You’re my pathologist…and…and my friend. Even though John’s my best friend…you are a close second.”

 

“Sherlock…right now…I… _I_ _need you.”_ Molly repeated carefully before she attempted to explain herself, which if it wasn’t for the coldness trying to take over everything about her she would have been highly embarrassed…but at the moment…She honestly didn’t care. He needed to understand what exactly she wanted…needed from him. If he rejected her, so be it. She would know then that she should have remained inside that coffin…

 

“I need you, Sherlock…Tonight. Now. Just…Just for tonight turn off your brilliant brain and allow yourself to be a human male with a human female. J-Just…please…Sherlock please…I need to feel human again…to…to feel alive…and to do that I need you to help me! Please! I want to be warm…Take way the coldness, Sherlock…I’m so cold and I’m afraid…that I’ll never be warm again…So please…”

 

She noticed that her words shocked him as he realized…

 

“Molly…I’m not sure…I c—“He attempted to find the words to say that wouldn’t destroy her.

 

“I know I might not be your type. Perhaps I’m not attractive enough for you or even smart enough or…or…clever enough…Hell, perhaps I’m not really all that important to you or matter to you all that much!”

 

“You are very attractive and quite clever…Also, you do matter, Molly! You are very impor—“

 

She wasn’t sure what to believe or even think anymore…All she knew was that she was starting to feel like pure ice. Ice so brittle and cold that any minute it was crack into a million shattered pieces.

 

“Oh, fake it if you must!” Molly declared almost angrily, not sure she had the strength to really be angry. “You are good at lies! Simply pretend that it’s for some twisted case. I know the truth, Sherlock, I don’t really count at all. I’ve _never_ counted!”

 

Sherlock grabbed her harshly and for a second it looked as if he wanted to shake her. “Damn it, Molly, I’m _not_ bloody lying! You do count, you have always counted! Don’t you see? Don’t you observe? Think woman! If you were not important to me would I have even taken you home? Would I even be here right now?”

 

“Why are you here?” Molly asked softly.

 

“BECAUSE YOU MATTER AND I BLOODY CARE ABOUT YOU! GOD AREN’T YOU EVEN LISTENING!”

 

“Then…Prove it.” Molly dared him. “Just this once, Sherlock, _show me_. Help me feel alive…Take away this coldness I’m experiencing. Help me feel human once more. Just this one time, that is all I ask of you. Will ever ask of you. We won’t even speak of it ever again. Things can go back to normal but tonight…Let have something good out of all of this horror that I’ve gone through today. Help me be happy that I’m alive. Help me, please Sherlock, feel something other than this cruel horrible coldness. Please. If what you say is true…If I do matter…If you do care about me… ** _show me_**. Go on…Prove it to me!”

 

Something flickered in Sherlock’s eyes. He took a deep breath before he closed his eyes. When he reopened them something told Molly that he had come to a decision. She didn’t have long to find out what that decision was. He bent his head and firmly took her lips with his.

 

The kiss was everything Molly had ever dreamed it could be. Sweet. Hot. It rushed away the icy coldness with a brilliant heated fire.. It was so passionate yet seemed possessive as well. A hard devouring heat truly perfect for chasing away the icy coldness within.

 

Molly knew instantly that she could lose herself in his arms and to be perfectly honest she did in fact want to lose herself in his embrace, in his heat, in his touch and his kiss…

 

It was a smoldering passion…Of course, there was no question about it, and she happily, quite willingly opened her lips to him and helped make the kiss deeper.

 

Goodness! Sherlock was sweeping her into a lovely world of pure sensation. Allowing him to touch her as she had always dreamed he would do.

 

At times he would pull back and Molly would beg him, threaten him not to dare stop. He made a sound of amusement at those moments before he revealed that he was attempting to remove clothing and the process would be a bit more enjoyable if she helped in the removal…He also suggested they go to her bedroom. Though she didn’t really care where they made love. They could have done it on the sofa, even had sex on her floor…though on second thought…the floor could have used a quick vacuum so maybe _not_ the floor then.

 

Anyway, they ended up in her bed, in her bedroom…His mouth finding hers and his touch firm and just so right.

 

Molly ended up beneath him as her body demanded more, needed more, so much more. Those lovely strong and confident hands upon her yearning flesh stroked so teasingly. Inciting, hell, inflaming the sweet passion between them.

 

Molly couldn’t help but make noises of intense pleasure as Sherlock made it his goal that she would indeed feel alive… It seemed important to him that she believe that she did in fact matter to him. There were also times that he seemed to understand her frantic need to feel alive, to feel human. She wasn’t completely sure he understood…but maybe, just maybe he did.

 

She simply needed to escape the madding nightmare of being buried alive with a corpse. She had been through hell and now Molly was desperate to find heaven in Sherlock’s arms. Unsurprisingly, she was. She was also finding a sweet wonderful shelter within his arms. A true safe place. Her very own bolt-hole. Completely free of the horrors of being buried alive.

 

Sherlock made sure she was ready for him when the time came and of course she was. Desperately ready. So very ready in fact. He damn well knew it too. Molly had no doubt that any woman in his arms could ever ‘fake’ it with him nor could she get away with it, for he was Sherlock Holmes after all. Not that she even tried, for this was the man she had loved for so many years.

 

She eagerly met his thrusts as both their cries filled her no longer lonely bedroom.

 

Molly happily continued to cling to him. Unable to do much more than to hold on during the raising storm of passion. Her body eagerly met his thrusts as he drove deeper and deeper…She knew she kept looking at Sherlock with eyes full of desire and with so much love. She even dared to repeat out loud her love for him. He told her that he knew that and he could even accept that.

 

She found she could accept that Sherlock would never love her back. He might never really ever be hers for always but for this one single night…This one wonderful moment, he would always be her Sherlock, her lover, her heart even her world…At this moment he was hers.

 

Tonight was her night. She could be with the man she loved without fear of rejection. Without wondering or fearing what would happen tomorrow. He would and could take away the coldness and make her warm once more.

 

Molly Hooper was alive! And she was happy to be so. She could feel and more importantly she could trust this man with her life, her heart and her body…For tonight anyway. Only for tonight.

 

She had touched him back. Loved him completely. Showed him everything that was within her heard and that night Sherlock proved that he too could be human. Could be a man accepting everything that Molly threw his way.

 

Her body…His body…Coming together into a fiery tango of their own special dance that Molly secretly never wanted to end. Skin again hot sweaty skin, the coldness having been driven away.

 

Afterwards he drew the covers over them and held her awhile. That had surprised her but she was thankful that he hadn’t simply gotten up to leave. Without a word spoken they came together once more later in the night and once again in the early morning light.

 

She had slept so peacefully in Sherlock’s arms.

 

Hours later Molly woke alone with a cold teacup upon her end table with a few biscuits and a quickly scribbled note.

 

‘Work knows you are not coming into work today. Must dash, I possibly have a 7 case. Text me if you must. Best Regards, Sherlock’

 

~*~SH~*~SH~*~

 

“Seriously? Sherlock actually left a note the morning after with the words, ‘Best Regards’?” John asked looked a bit perplexed and even sounded more than a little offended on her behalf.

 

Molly gave him a halfhearted smile. “To be honest, I thought it was kind of sweet that he even took the time to leave me a note…or even make me tea.”

 

The fact that Sherlock did those things didn’t hurt her or destroy her heart at all. In fact it had made her wonder…Could he have actually meant it, he really did _care_. Something told her that he just might if she was willing to observe…But she was a bit too nervous about doing that. For what if it was simply her hopes and wishful thinking?

 

John shook his head. “You deserve better than that, Molly! So much better!”

 

She really didn’t want better, just Sherlock…And now, she was going to have his baby. If she could never have him at least…she had their miracle.

 

“Oh, John, I fear you don’t understand. I’ve never asked for better. It was only _one_ night and after that night we both never spoke of it again.”

 

“Well, now my annoying arse of a friend is going to be a father so…you two now _need_ to talk about that night!”

 

Molly sighed before stating, “John at this time, I don’t feel like talking about this to Sherlock. I honestly don’t know if Sherlock even wants to be a father and I refuse to make him feel he has to be responsible or…or even say something cruel that I would never forgive him for. It’s a bridge I’m not able to cross at this time. Maybe it’s my fears talking…I don’t really know. At the moment, my emotions are still out of control. I have stupid panic attacks in the bloody elevators here at work! Enclosed places scare me and I end up hating myself for it! Don’t you see, I’m still a mess, John! I want to be a good parent and I want this baby…I’m just not ready to talk to Sherlock about this. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready.”

 

John stared at her. “You will be a great Mum…No matter what the hell you’ve gone through but soon you are going to _have_ to be ready to talk and tell Sherlock. He should know, even if the prick decides he doesn’t want to be a responsible father. Hell, his parents are truly lovely people and this is their one chance at being grandparents, so please, whatever happens don’t keep this gift out of their lives.”

 

Molly rubbed at her tired eyes before looking at John thoughtfully, “I’ll think about it…Though I still feel I need to get away from London for a while before Sherlock knows. I just don’t know where to go…”

 

“Well…” John finally said after a long moment of silence. “I might know a good place for you to go and hide for a while, if that is really what you want…You see my pal Major Sholto offered me the use of a cottage he owns out in the middle of nowhere--”

 

~*~End of Part 2~*~

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope you are enjoying this odd story...Many hugs  
> 221bMoonunit

~*~The Disappearance~*~

~*~Part 2 ~*~

_‘Ah, yes-a simple matter.’_

_‘But he would never cease talking of it-your kindness, sir, and the way in which you brought light into darkness. I remembered his words when I was in doubt and darkness myself…’_

_-_ The Red Circle by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

_‘Well?’ he asked in that vibrant voice which told of the fiery soul behind the cold grey face._

-The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

~*~SHERLOCK~*~

John sat in his comfortable and to be perfectly honest his favorite chair over at 221B Baker Street, reading a paper. He was simply waiting…Mostly for Sherlock to find an interesting case.

He had been actually ordered here to Baker Street by his dear, sweet (he still wasn’t sure why she seemed upset with him) wife. He had two days off and he had spent one of them at home with a teething baby who refused to stop crying and an upset wife…Who bright and early this morning ordered him to go over to Sherlock’s for she believed quite strongly that he was starting to act worse than their baby all because he was supposedly suffering from separation anxiety from being away from ‘His Nibs’ for too long…Really? John doubted that it had only been last week that he had gone with Sherlock on some case at a bloody cat show! He hoped that they never did that one again!

Anyway, when his former assassin wife ordered him out of the house and to Sherlock’s…Well, he didn’t even attempt to argue with her.

While he had been here, Sherlock had three would-be-could-be clients in his sitting room. In each case he informed them…

“Your maid and her lover stole your jewels and they hid it in the goose that’s in the freezer.”

“I simply want to know one thing about your so-called missing wife, Mr. Amberly. Where did you hide her body?”

“Okay, Sally, you would like me to find the lovely little farm your parents sent dear Basil…Well, your parents are nasty liars and your dog is dead.”

Of course at this John had hissed Sherlock’s name when he informed the tiny cute eight year old of this.

Now there weren’t any more clients but John found himself still strangely hopeful. He knew damn well that Sherlock couldn’t stand to be bored and to be quite honest, he wouldn’t mind a little adventure himself. Any moment Sherlock would be checking his e-mail and maybe just maybe…there will be something there that held promise…Something that would make Sherlock sit up and his eyes would suddenly sparkle with great intelligence and life…

At the moment, however, Sherlock seemed to be in one of his moods. For a while he refused to say another word before he began to play his violin near one of the open windows. It was a bit dark and depressing, the melody he played, however, there was something quite beautiful about it. There seemed to be something else within the music…A thread of hope running through the song. It was one John had never heard before.

Sherlock stopped and quickly wrote some notes upon some music sheets, explaining to John exactly why he had never heard it before.

“That song is real nice, Sherlock.” John told his best friend in a kind and honest manner.

Sherlock simply ignored him as he lifted his violin as if he was about to play some more…Except he froze, suddenly becoming tense as something outside his window drew his attention.

With his violin in one hand and his bow in another he walked gracefully over to his own armchair in front of the fireplace to sit down.

“Looks as if we are about to have company.” Sherlock stated calmly.

“A client?” John asked hopefully. It had been weeks since they had worked a case together.

A small smile graced the consulting detective’s face for a second as if he completely understood John’s desire and his slightly odd need for adventure. “No. I said ‘company’ not ‘client’, John. Please do pay attention.”

At that moment Mycroft slowly walked in. The two brothers stared intensely at each other as if they were silently making deductions about each other’s day. Oh, good Lord. It was going to be one of ‘those’ days, was it?

John sighed deeply before going back to his paper. For it looked as if nothing interesting was going to happen except for cold remarks and hostile stares. The Holmes’ Brothers Variety Show! One should wear a coat while watching…Sheesh!

“Well?” Sherlock asked Mycroft sharply. So sharply that John quickly peeked up from his paper to look at his best friend.

Mycroft sighed before pressing his lips together. He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets; he actually looked as if something was bothering him…Really? The ice man bothered by something other than his brother? Hmmm…interesting.

“I find, Sherlock, that…well…I…I can’t help you.”

Sherlock snarled, yes he actually snarled, as he leaped up from his chair much like a highly annoyed jungle cat who recently lost his prey.

“What the _hell_ do you mean… _You_ can’t help _me_?” He asked this angrily as he moved towards his brother. He honestly looked as if he was seconds away from bulging Mycroft to death with his beloved violin. Which spoke volumes for John knew how much he valued that lovely old violin of his.

“I mean exactly that, brother mine! I don’t keep an eye on everyone _all_ the bloody time.” Mycroft explained patiently and to be honest quite coldly which if one thought about it wasn’t all that new.

“Then what is the point,” As Sherlock said the word ‘point’, he poked Mycroft in the chest with his bow… “In being _the_ British Government?” The coldness in Sherlock’s voice felt like a horrible ice whiplash.

Mycroft simply glared as he moved away from Sherlock’s annoying violin bow, for he never liked to be poked at.

“The day she left London some arse in China was attempting to bugger with our systems and purposely tried to annoy me greatly. Also, you must realize that I have more important things to do than wonder where the hell your silly little pathologist has gone off to!”

If the Holmes brothers had been paying attention they would have noticed John’s eyes widen before looking suddenly shifty as he quickly turned the newspaper page to quickly pretend to read it, hiding his face from view.

Sherlock slowly sat aside his violin and bow. It was almost as if he wanted his hands free so he could more easily wrap his hands around his older brother’ neck. Sherlock studied Mycroft with a very serious expression upon his face.

“Find her for me, Mycroft and you will find me…Quite thankful…”

Mycroft narrowed his sharp calculating eyes upon his baby brother. “Just _how_ thankful?” His voice was cold and low…Almost soft and almost dangerous…

As if Sherlock knew exactly what he was _really_ asking, he sighed deeply, looking for a moment as if he was about to enter hell…or kiss a lady he despised for a case…

“As you know, in a few months’ time our parents are planning to come visit London once more and they hinted very strongly that they would enjoy it if one of us would take them to a ‘delightful’ dinner and a show. We both know it will be pure torture…And…I will be thankful, Mycroft…So thankful in fact that I will do what I must but only if you tell me where Molly is. Find her for me and this time around it will be my turn to take them to dinner and a stupid damn show.”

There was such disgust in Sherlock’s voice that John peeked over his paper to see both brothers’ grimace at the thought of dinner and a show with their parents. John honestly didn’t understand their reluctance for their parents were such wonderful people…Perhaps it was ‘and a show’ concept that the brothers hated the thought of. Shame that. He’s love to take Sherlock’s parents out for a lovely dinner and a show…

Mycroft slowly moved around the room thoughtfully before sitting down in Sherlock’s chair. Placing his hands upon his expensive suit’s vest and lacing his fingers together. After a long moment of silence, he finally asked, “Really? You would do that if I find out where your little pathologist went on her holiday?”

A muscle twitched upon Sherlock’s face and his hands tightened into fists.

“Yes, Mycroft, I will do exactly that! So find her for me, now!” He ordered sharply.

“Interesting, very interesting.” Mycroft replied softly and with an air of being completely unconcerned. Yet something was busy moving behind those cold eyes. Figures and possibilities…He may have looked as if he was doing nothing but his mind was incredibly busy.

“You know full well that Molly Hooper could return any day now.” Mycroft stated as if in afterthought.

“She’s been away over three weeks now! Molly never goes away on holiday especially this long!” Sherlock snapped at him as if that alone should explain everything…He began to pace with fervent energy…His steps almost seemed angry…With himself for wanting to find her or with Molly for leaving, perhaps even both…Only Sherlock really knew what was going on in that great mind of his.

Mycroft sighed once more. “Oh, Sherlock…How many times have I informed you not to get involved? Nothing good can ever come from it. Seriously, there is absolutely no logic in getting involved…It’s all a waste really…”

John couldn’t help but snort, thinking to himself just how _involved_ he actually became with Molly…At least for one night…Also, he felt something _good_ had come from it…Made Sherlock more human actually and he couldn’t help but wonder just how Mycroft would feel if he knew he was to be an uncle…

John quickly noticed that Mycroft was staring quite coldly at him, yet all that caused him to do was give Sherlock’s brother a ‘I could care less about what you think you silly damn twat’ smile before turning his eyes back towards his paper. He could actually _feel_ those icy eyes narrow dangerously upon him…Oh, he best be careful an audit could very well be in his future. John snorted once more at that thought.

Even though he was pretending to focus on the paper his smile widened for a picture came sharply into his mind…The Holmes brothers trying to change a smelly nappy and Sherlock sneaking out of the room to let his brother deal with it…

To be quite honest it was delightful to actually know something that neither Sherlock nor Mycroft knew. Sherlock never once thought of simply asking if John knew where Molly was. He would have said ‘yes’ and then annoyed him by not saying anything else about it…

Sherlock moved towards Mycroft slowly much like a hawk about to swoop its prey.

“Find Molly for me, Mycroft. If you don’t…You’ll need a winter coat in what was once the fiery depths of hell before I’m ever…truly _thankful_ towards you ever again.” Sherlock coldly declared with contempt before he smiled and continued in a thoughtful almost happy tone, “Gee, I wonder if Mum and Dad are going to want to see a repeat of Les Mis again…I’m sure you will be simply _delighted_ to see it with them once more…Won’t you brother dear?”

Mycroft actually shivered with disgust and a brief look of agony crossed his features making Sherlock’s smile turn truly devilish.

The smile, however, disappeared from Sherlock’s face when Mycroft inquired softly, his eyes never once left him. “No, not until you tell me, Sherlock… _Why_ does finding her and knowing where she is so important to you? Speak honestly or I’m walking out the door and Molly can rot for all I care.”

Sherlock turned sharply away from his brother. “Don’t you mean that ‘I can rot’?” His face and tone completely emotionless.

A cold slight smile edged the corner of Mycroft’s mouth. “No, I meant what I said; _I_ at least know where _you_ are… _Molly_ however…”

Sherlock turned his face to glare at his brother. They both grew silent.

Finally Sherlock softly answered, giving his damn brother what he wanted…The truth, always the truth no matter how wrong it might be. “Because, Mycroft…She matters to me. Molly has always mattered in some way, be it small or large…and not knowing where she is…it…it…more than bothers me greatly. I don’t like it, I hate it! I need to know! _I must know_ …”

John had some time ago lowered his paper slightly to watch the two brothers and he now lowered it even more as he blinked in shock at his best friend’s admission.

Mycroft suddenly looked away from Sherlock and leaned forward in the chair he was sitting in to reach out and snatch part of the paper that John had already set aside.

“Mmm…Right. She matters and it bothers you…Oh, sorry it bothers you that she didn’t inform you that she was going off on her little holiday…Though I don’t see anything wrong in that. Women like little holidays…At least according to some rumors I’ve heard they do.”

Sherlock stared at Mycroft.

“She even took Toby with her.” Sherlock told him in a confused whisper. Looking puzzled and a bit lost as if it wasn’t at all logical to take a beloved pet with her on her holiday.

“Well, I quite firmly believe that she’s still very much in England…If that helps…” Mycroft attempted to reassure his baby brother with an ‘I don’t really give a damn’ shrug.

Oh! If a look just so happened to be a very sharp knife, Mycroft would right this moment be bleeding, forcing John to save a life, and Sherlock would probably be arrested for tempted murder.

Mycroft simply ignored that look as he glanced at the paper before muttering, “Oh my, that’s a damn fine sale on potatoes.”

“MYCROFT!” Sherlock snapped hotly at him.

Mycroft continued to ignore him to study the paper before him, calmly he asked as if he didn’t have a care in the world, “So, John, tell me, are _you_ deeply concerned about Sherlock’s lost pathologist?”

John found himself freezing before purposely shaking the paper to hide behind it before stating, “Of course. She is a friend and friends _care_ about one another. She’s also been through hell recently. It’s going to take a while to heal. However, I completely understand her desire to get away from London for a bit.”

“Aw, yes…She felt the need to ‘get away’…More like run away from those recent demons, yes? With everything that has happened to the girl do you think it was wise of her to go off all ‘alone’…So completely alone…Not that I care at all mind you but I am curious about what you think about all of this?”

“Why?” John lowered the paper to ask suspiciously to find Mycroft studying him quite intensely.

“Simple curiosity, John. What does an extremely simple minded normal person like yourself think? A great mind like mine can never sink so low into such dark waters…So, please…Tell me, John, what are your thoughts on this matter?”

“No, I don’t believe Molly should be alone at this time…yet…maybe she’s not completely alone at all.”

“Ri-i-ight, she has her cat with her.” Mycroft scoffed before tossing the paper off to the side.

“Damn it, do you actually want me to beg!?” Sherlock demanded, cutting in on their silly conversation.

Mycroft shot him a certain look before slowly standing and making sure his clothes were once more perfect. Afterwards he tilted his head to look Sherlock up and down. There was an odd stillness about him.

“Would you, brother mine, actually _beg_?” Mycroft questioned.

Sherlock stiffened as if expecting his brother to say more, yet the words never came. Sherlock eyed him coldly, oh so coldly…then without a single word…He gave a sharp very slight nod.

“ _Oh_.” Mycroft breathed in complete surprise before he blinked rapidly a few times as if rearranging something quite profound and important inside his head.

Finally Mycroft reminded him in a completely superior way, “You and I both know that sentiment is a serious weakness that we must do without. It is found on the losing side… _Remember_?”

Sherlock stared at Mycroft without once blinking before saying only one word. Just one single damning word. “Anthea.”

“Ah, right. Yes.” Mycroft admitted looking away momentarily. For there was something within his eyes that he hated to be witnessed. He moved towards his bother to lean in close to whisper yet John could still hear as he leaned over, “It’s such a bitch to be a silly human, isn’t it? Especially for men like us, whose God is cold pure logic above all things. We believe in the mind over what stupid people call one’s ‘heart’. The mind should be stronger and at times it is indeed stronger…But then comes a day when a blasted unique fish swims in our waters…What an annoyance to find we are actually men rather than machines.”

“I need to know where Molly is, Mycroft…Please, brother mine…Find her _for me_ …” Sherlock pleaded softly

Mycroft sighed. “For you…well…”

He turned away from his brother to move towards John’s chair. A slightly satisfied smile lurked around the edges of Mycroft’s mouth that made one instantly nervous.

“Since you asked me oh, so nicely…” Mycroft continued to reply as he moved gracefully. “However, I must admit that I have no idea where your little unique fish is swimming these days, Sherlock…But I do know someone who does know…Don’t I, John?”

Mycroft Holmes was seriously such a pompous arse!

At Mycroft’s words, John had turned into ice…at least it felt that way. He calmly wet his lips before setting aside his paper to cross his arms to look at the man who shared the same blasted DNA as Sherlock. He meant those cold eyes with his own. “Do you, really, Mycroft? Actually know someone? Perhaps you should prove it and pop off to go talk to that person…”

“ ** _I am_** talking to _that_ person!” Mycroft declared in that infuriating way that he sometimes had. He sometimes reminded John of a cold shark prepared to bite any second, always showing off its sharp teeth.

The older Holmes brother actually thought that he had the upper hand, yet John knew damn well that he didn’t. In fact there was a lot that Mycroft _didn’t_ know. Good thing he had made no promises to Molly about not telling Sherlock that she was pregnant. Before he helped her leave she actually seemed to almost expect it…and he knew she simply needed some time away…Well, she was away…but if things worked the way his heart hoped for…she nor Sherlock would be ‘alone’ for long…

“Wait…You know where Molly is?” Sherlock asked as if completely stunned that he hadn’t thought John would know such a thing…For a second a deep hurt crossed his face as if John had somehow betrayed him before it disappeared…He must have realized that he had never thought to simply _ask_ his best friend… ‘Hey, do you happen to know where Molly went?’ Seriously that was all he had needed to do instead it looked like he was going to a dinner and a show with his parents…much to Mycroft’s joy and Sherlock’s despair. Not John’s fault that sometimes Sherlock missed things…

He shifted in his chair before stating… “Since you are _finally_ asking _me,_ a friend to both you and Molly…Yes, of course I do. She is perfectly safe and I know for a fact that she is doing okay. She still has a lot on her mind and is uncertain that she will ever return to London…”

“What total nonsense! Not return to London? How dare she be uncertain?!” Sherlock growled sharply and angrily. He moved near John to demand… “Where is she, John?”

John looked up at him before he shook his head, “No.”

The two Holmes brothers could surround him all day and glare coldly at him but it didn’t mean that he’d say shit until he was ready to.

There was a strange intensity in Sherlock’s eyes as he suddenly yelled and kicked at his chair, like a two year old throwing a tantrum.

John simply narrowed his eyes before declaring, “You are at times the most cruel, manipulating bastard that has ever walked upon this earth.”

Sherlock became still before saying softly, “I know that, John.”

“You can also be a kind and good man. No matter how many times you act like a complete arse, your heart in the end betrays your true and sometimes hidden nature…” John said just as softly back.

This time Sherlock said nothing, simply stared at him…waiting…

He didn’t have to wait long.

“Molly loves you, Sherlock. She has always loved you and she’d do anything for you.”

John knew he also loved his best friend and he too would do anything for him. He had a feeling Sherlock knew that too.

He left those words unspoken, for they never needed to be said…

“I know all of that too.” Sherlock finally stated tone still soft. “I know a lot of things…Maybe not where the earth likes to travel but I do know…Things that are really important. Truly important, John. Sadly, right now…One of the most important things I need to know is where Molly is…So, please, tell me.”

John moved his jaw before asking, “Why?”

It was Mycroft who spoke; his coldness for a moment had strangely enough faded away. “Oh, John, really…Were you not listening just a moment ago…My brother and I had been having a disgusting conversation about sentiment…It’s such a great horrible weakness within human nature. A foolish breakable human heart over shadowing an even greater and more brilliant mind. My brother clearly stated that he was in ‘love’…” The last word was sneered at with great distain.

John blinked and slowly stood from his chair to question in surprise and a bit of wonder. “Are you really in love with Molly, Sherlock?”

Sherlock did not confirm or more importantly deny that question. He simply repeated. “Where is Molly, John?”

John looked over at Mycroft. “You better be right about your brother being in love with Molly Hooper…Seeing that Molly’s pregnant with Sherlock’s baby and if everything goes right you’ll be an uncle soon enough…Maybe as a nice gesture you can buy a cradle or teddy bear or something…Surely the British government can afford that…right?”

He almost laughed out loud as he noticed right away that both men were suddenly standing like pale statues. Eyes wide and jaws slightly slack…

He leaned in close to Mycroft whisper, “I willingly gave you a clue earlier…I told you she wasn’t really _alone_.”

He flashed him a completely cheeky smile. It was extremely rare to be able to surprise _both_ brothers…

Still neither men moved and John finally shrugged. Moving away from them and needing something to do he asked, “How about a nice cuppa?”

After receiving absolutely no response…Well, perhaps a couple of quick blinks…John muttered, “Right then, I’ll put the kettle on.”

With that he quickly left the room.

John knew damn well once Sherlock got over his shock it wouldn’t take him long to reveal Molly’s whereabouts…Hopefully Sherlock would talk her into coming back to London where she belonged…Though when she did come home he had a strong feeling that Mycroft would be upgrading her status…She probably wouldn’t be able to go to the toilets without Sherlock’s older brother receiving a detailed report about it.

His romantic heart also hoped like crazy that his best friend didn’t screw things up, say the wrong thing…

Perhaps Sherlock was hoping the same thing.

All John knew for sure was that if felt pretty damn good to have ‘one up’ on the Holmes brothers…

It actually made the entire day a bloody fine one!

~*~End of Part 3~*~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lovely and big thank you to all who commented and hit the kudos button...You are awesome and wonderful!
> 
> I do hope you continue to enjoy...

~*~The Disappearance~*~

~*~Part 4 ~*~

_Whoever had lost a treasure, I knew that night that I had gained one._

The Sign of the Four - by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

_I felt Holmes’s hand steal into mine and give me a reassuring shake, as if to say that the situation was within his powers and that he was easy in his mind._

-Charles Augustus Milverton by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

_‘…And yet she loved me-that is the wonder of it…’_

-The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

~*~SHERLOCK~*~

The sky was an extremely dark cloudy gray with jagged bright flashes of lightening that at random moments would dance across the sky in question. At first the rain that came down was quite gentle, almost teasingly in its manner, now however it was coming down hard and with a vengeance.

Molly emotionlessly watched as the raindrops hurried down the pane of glass as if they were children racing against each other. Thunder crackled overhead as the wind blew slightly harder as the rain viciously pelted the tiny cottage.

If the kettle hadn’t whistled right then making her turn away towards the kitchen she may have noticed the headlights of a lone car quickly making its way to the charming little country cottage that Molly was staying at.

And all she heard was the thunder and rain…as well as the soft voices coming from an old black and white Rathbone movie that played upon the telly…

To be honest she hadn’t really been watching it for her mind seemed to be elsewhere and her eyes more focused upon the storm outside…

When the front door of the cottage banged open Molly gasped. She was now holding the handle of the kettle and even as she did so, Molly felt a sudden overwhelming fear. She knew the strong wind hadn’t blown it open, it couldn’t have for even way out here in the middle of nowhere she had taken to always locking the heavy door…and much to her heartache and disappear she found herself constantly and randomly checking on it making sure it was still locked as well as the windows…Double checking…Triple checking…all the time calling herself such a fool! It was something she couldn’t seem to stop…Day after day…It annoyed her greatly…Even when she left the lovely cottage she would wonder if she had carefully locked it up…Even knowing full well that she had locked it up.

She couldn’t help but berate herself savagely especially when she doubled and more than tripled checked…She had even done that with her own flat right after…after…

All she knew was that no one was ever kidnapping her again and placing her in a coffin with another corpse…EVER!

Anyway those moments where much worse when she caught herself holding a knife or even an old golf club of her father’s…Unaware that she had even picked it up to go check upon the door or windows. What a paranoid freak she was turning out to be! God! What kind of mother was she going to be?

The front door slammed as she was thinking this…Still holding the hot kettle with one slightly shaking hand as she reached out with her free left one to pick up a nice long knife…

“James, is that you?” She asked moving on silently colorful socked feet. James Sholto was not a sociable man and many even own this lovely charming cottage but he always knocked…Always…But Molly found herself asking anyway even when logic told her it wouldn’t be…

She heard other bangs as if some things were being tossed down in the sitting room before a clear familiar voice with no amusement in it followed making her heart leap with a brief poke of happiness.

“Who the hell is this _James_ you speak of?” The famous consulting detective said the name as if it was something truly nasty that needed to go away…far away.

“Sherlock…” Molly breathed, setting down the knife in her hand.

As if that name was pure magic he was suddenly walking into her kitchen. Even completely wet, muddy and looking cold and exhausted Sherlock looked mighty beautiful…So breathtakingly beautiful that at first Molly was unable to speak…It really wasn’t fair for a man to be that beautiful and without even trying!

“I asked you a question, Molly, so do please answer it.”

Molly quickly and for some odd reason nervously explained, “Um, well, you know…James…You saved him at John’s wedding, remember? Major James Sholto? He owns this cabin and the large estate that is about eight miles down the road…You should take a look at it sometime, Sherlock, it’s quite impressive! There is even a lake and the security around the estate is pretty amazing. Anyway, James is quite a nice fellow even if he doesn’t like talking all that much. He really isn’t all that of a sociable person nor does he like or trust people all that much but he’s still real nice. Always taking the time to check in on me…though I think John asked him to but still…It’s nice of him! Plus, some of the things he says! Goodness, he’s blunt why just at dinner yesterday he told me that at least my small breasts will get naturally bigger…um, never mind…”

She suddenly stopped and cleared her throat when she noticed that Sherlock’s glare had become seriously darker and…and well…there was something in that air…Something that Molly dared not look too closely at…For surely Sherlock wasn’t…no, he couldn’t be…He was Sherlock ‘pure logic’ Holmes and he would never…never lower himself to become jealous…Right? No…That could _never_ happen… _right?_

“For a bloody man who supposedly hates to be sociable he sure has a lot of women around him…You don’t need to be one of them. So that will come to an end right this very moment!” Sherlock declared as if that was the end of the matter as he turned away to unbutton his coat.

“What?” She asked in complete surprise.

He didn’t look at her as he snarled, “You heard me, he can swim all he wants in his waters but he damn sure can stay out of mine!

“H-He’s simply attempting to be friendly and nice, Sherlock. I’m alone out here in the middle of nowhere and I am also one of John’s friends as is he…and sadly I don’t think he has too many friends anyway…” Molly told him honestly, eyeing him carefully longing to ask why he was here and if John had told him about the baby…She had a feeling that maybe he had…but she wasn’t sure she could trust that feeling…

This time Sherlock looked at her. The hot glare was completely gone; in fact, _everything_ was gone from his expression. Leaving his quite beautiful handsome face nothing more than hard stone.

“Well, it stops Molly. You are no longer alone now, for I’m here.” He stated softly then he blinked before clapping his hands together as he nodded towards the kettle. “I do hope you made enough for yourself. A hot cup of tea would be lovely right about now. You know how I take it. While you do that I will go search for a much needed towel.”

With that he left the kitchen and Molly simply stared after him with a soft, “Okay…”

She set down the kettle and found herself taking a long deep breath before she ran a loving hand over her stomach…

Some moments later Molly was carrying a what looked to be a well-used tray on which set some tea and luckily some biscuits…For she knew Sherlock and he enjoyed biscuits with his tea and heaven forbid there weren’t any, one would think the world was coming to a violent end otherwise! When she took the items into the setting room she found Sherlock sitting on the sofa with his long legs stretched out and his ankles crossed and his feet quite bare. He had removed his muddy and wet shoes…Making him look so blasted comfortable and not at all tense like she was…Damn him!

Molly looked around and quickly noticed that there was a long dark umbrella that he must has simply tossed down upon the floor now in a puddle making its own mini-lake, with how violent the wind had been blowing and how wet he looked it must not have given much if any protection against the elements outside. There was a large black duffle bag that sat off in a lone chair that sat in a corner and against the chair also sat a dark well-traveled violin case…Which made her wonder just how long did Sherlock plan to stay here…

Well, she was _not_ cleaning up after him! She would _never_ be his maid!

With that thought firmly in her head she carefully handed him his tea…and Sherlock being Sherlock didn’t even say thank you!

He took a long slow sip and she stood there waiting…a bit impatient before she looked away. “You know don’t you?”

It seemed forever before he responded, “Where you are, of course, that’s why I’m here. That we will be parents? I now know that to for John had quite a thrill telling both Mycroft and I. Too much of a bloody thrill if you ask me. What I don’t know is how long you and I are going to be on this blasted holiday together. Do be warned, Molly, whenever I leave London, it seems to cause an unhealthy excitement among the criminal classes. So I do hope you keep that in mind while we are here.”

Molly blinked at him a few times before inhaling sharply…it took her a moment or two to finally find the words to ask... “You and I?”

Sherlock’s sharp eyes studied her as he lifted the tea cup to his lips…it hovered there as he simply stated, “We both know you are pregnant, Molly, not deaf.” It wasn’t until he said that did he take a sip of his tea…His eyes were still completely focused on her.

Molly rubbed her hands nervously against her thighs. “You…You don’t have to stay here, Sherlock…Really you don’t…”

Surely chasing after the criminal element was far more interesting and far more important…

There was something that flashed quickly in his eyes, it moved much too quickly for Molly to even attempt to figure out what it was, before he smoothly looked away and calmly set down his cup off to the side.

“I will have you know that I am a weed in the garden of life, especially _your_ garden so don’t you dare attempt to yank me out or spray shit on me…that will only annoy me greatly…I, Molly Hooper, am here to stay.” Sherlock seemed to warn her before he flashed her a honestly wicked smile…It faded quickly but she still witnessed it.

He gently patted the spot next to him on the sofa. “Do come over here and sit down…” His soft, in in his own way, _kind_ words in no way sounded like a suggestion.

Molly crossed her arms and remained firmly where she was.

“Fine.” Sherlock sighed before he shrugged as if he knew when to fight his battles…He suddenly sprang to his feet and began to move towards her. To come to a stop some feet away. Giving her plenty of much needed room to breathe…

Molly swallowed hard…Watching him with wide eyes…Wondering what he was about to say…or do…For some reason she was a tight yet colorful kaleidoscope of emotions…Nervousness…Fear….Love…Hope…

“Molly…” Sherlock began to say before he stopped to run a hand violently into his thick curls and give them a shake. Growling he turned away and after a moment of silence he looked back at her steadily… “So…Why didn’t you bother to tell me…yourself…that we are going to have a spawn together? Um, I meant _baby_ …” He quickly said at Molly’s sharp look. “Baby is exactly what I meant! And why when you knew…did you leave London… _again_ _without telling me_ … ** _WHY?_** ”

Molly winced and simply had to look away. Oh, how could she explain? “I…I _needed_ to get away, Sherlock.”

“What from me?” Sherlock asked her quite sharply, his hawk like eyes seemed determined to see everything and miss nothing.

“No…Well not really…Maybe. Oh, I don’t know! Blast it all, Sherlock! I know you must now see me as a coward…or an idiot…”

“I don’t see you as an idiot but that is saying something for I see John as an idiot! Nor do I see you as a coward. I believe…that you would have indeed told me if John hadn’t…At some point, at least. Hopefully not when you were in a delivery room somewhere for I would have been highly annoyed with you if that had happened.”

“Still I let John…Hell, I kind of hoped he _would_ tell you!”

Sherlock sighed before stating clearly, “Yes and I understand, Molly. I really do. Perhaps you feared my response to your pregnancy and you have been going through quite a bit as of late. Being buried alive with a corpse didn’t help you any. Perhaps you even fear me _not_ having any response to your pregnancy whatsoever. Not caring or being all that concern…Stupidly letting you cross that bridge when _you_ came to it and set it ablaze right after you. If I was the type of man to simply take my pleasure and use a woman, which I’m not…no matter what the trashy tabloids say…Perhaps…But I’m not and you being who you are to me…I would never leave you to cross that bridge. I now will never leave you truly alone. You matter too much to me, you see…” Sherlock said the last sentence softly…She could still hear his words, of course and there was a certain look in those eyes of his before he looked away.

He went on, “I thought… _That_ night…that you believed me…that you understood that you do indeed matter to me, Mo—“

“I want to believe it and sometimes there are moments that I think back on those words and…and I almost do.” Molly cut in, feeling as if she wanted to sob…She stopped for a moment before whispering, hoping he’d understand, “Lately, I’ve been so messed up. I don’t know if I’m up or down…I feel so cold and so bloody lost at times, Sherlock! I sometimes feel as if I never left that blasted coffin and I wonder if I really should have…a-and that scares me…s-so much that I fear that I’m going to be a rubbish parent…I mean look around you, Sherlock!”

Her words became louder as her emotions ran wild. Molly gestured with her hands and moved quickly in a circle. There was now no way to stop the tears. “Every sodding light in this cottage is on! I can’t even sleep with them off! The last time I had them completely off was that night with you! I mean how stupid is that?! I have so many things wrong with me now that I know…I just know that I shouldn’t…cant’ matter to you much now! I mean look at me, I’ve changed Sherlock and I don’t believe it’s for the better! I’m pregnant and I’m a freak…”

Molly tried not to sob. She took some deep breaths and wiped at her eyes and cheeks with her shaking cold hands. She couldn’t seem to stop sniffling…

Silence had descended upon the room. Part of her wondered if this was going to be the moment that Sherlock left…Perhaps never to be seen by her again.

Molly waited, refusing to look at him until finally Sherlock spoke obviously choosing his words _very_ carefully…or maybe not as carefully as he believed his words to be.

“You are now completely nutters, but at least being nutters looks better on you than some of those silly jumpers you wear…”

She gasped and looked at him. Surprisingly he held out a Kleenex box out towards her. She hesitantly took a couple of soft tissues…to use.

“I know it’s my fault that you are now nutters. Mycroft and I were warned from an early age that this would happen so I take full responsibility for your madness.” Sherlock continued almost sadly. “We, Holmes’ men, have been warned for generations in fact, that once we have planted our seed in a female that they go completely off their rockers. Seriously the stories! The women go back to normal after the child is out at least that is the story…but until then! Wow! There are still some villages that still like to tell some Holmes legends to this day. Crazy really! One Holmes’ wife heavy with child and honestly I don’t know how she did it, in the late 1800’s actually climbed a tree to save some silly cat! It’s said she put on her husband’s clothes and climbed that tree…A tree that was in the middle of the town’s park no less! In view of everyone, the tongues wagged that day let me tell you! Then you will never believe what my Mum did when she was pregnant with me…Mostly it involves her wanting fresh berries…so much so she didn’t bother with clothes and went to our neighbor’s field and stole some berries…The police may have been called…Huh, I honestly thought I had deleted that blasted story from my head…”

Sherlock looked confused for a moment before he shrugged as if it really didn’t matter. “Anyway, you are no freak, you never will be. Even if you never get over what happened to you involving that coffin and that corpse, you are still Molly. You will always be my Molly, so what if you happen to have some silly ‘issues’? So what if you leave the lights on? You are no longer in that coffin and one day…You’ll _feel_ it and know it with all that heart of yours. It may not be today or even tomorrow but one day and when that day comes…I’ll be right there at your side for there really isn’t another place I’d rather be…Okay, I’ll leave your side for interesting cases but I’ll come running to your side when you need me to be there…or if I’m in the loo it might mean you need to wait a moment or two. Anyway, you might not realize it now but you are stuck with me, Molly Hooper…Now and tomorrow…Until we reach our forever.”

“Don’t you dare make promises you don’t intend to keep! I know you, remember?” Molly reminded him.

“Oh, I know quite well how well you know me…” Sherlock tilted his head before saying, “And I do intend to keep my promises. It won’t be a hardship I’m sure. In fact…we must have a serious talk about how things are going to be and because you are now completely nutters and again…I know it’s my fault…I know you might not like our conversation but there are important things that must be said.”

“Will you _stop_ calling me nutters!” Molly yelled suddenly wanting to do something to him…Mostly slap him…or smash his face with cake…hmm, _cake_ …that actually sounded good…real good…

Anyway, she was in no way nutters!

Sherlock gave her a ‘oh, yeah you are so nutters, woman’ look before he nodded slowly as if attempting to calm her. “ _Sure_ …Whatever you say, Molly…”

Molly glared at him.

Sherlock made a ‘what?’ gesture with his hands before he nodded towards the sofa and even pointed it out with his finger as if she didn’t know it excised. “How about we sit down, especially you, seeing you are now standing for two…”

“How about you shove that sofa up your nose?”

Okay, she didn’t say that, but she thought it. Instead she said, “How about we simply have this all important conversation you think we must have? While that happens I’ll remain standing, thank you.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Fine!” He quickly moved to the sofa that he had attempted to point out to her and flopped down as if his strings had suddenly been cut before he quickly began, “As of an hour ago, my darling brother had all your items from what once was your flat moved over to Baker Street.”

Molly blinked at him perfectly aghast. “W-What?”

“All your crap has been moved to ‘hang out’ with all of my crap over at 221B Baker Street.” Sherlock explained dryly and slowly. “Because that is where you live now.”

What the…She didn’t remember moving to the sofa but the next thing she knew she was sitting down beside a smirking Sherlock …Truly stunned…

“B-But…” Molly attempted, not sure what else to say…If anyone was nutters it was him not her!

“No buts, Molly…It’s happened. You need to accept this as well as some other things that are bound to also happen…I understand that you might find some of this hard…” Sherlock told her carefully, his smirk gone as his strong hand slowly and tenderly reached out to touch her hand. “You are going to be a mum now. It’s only natural after all for the biological imperatives of your sex clearly and strongly urges you to procreate and build a nest. Seeing that I procreated with you it’s now my duty to help you build said nest. So of course, that nest has to be over at Baker Street where I must remind you that you now live…No need to worry for Mycroft has also forwarded your mail to your new address for it seems he can indeed be quite useful.”  


“Sherlock! What the bloody hel—“

“Now, do please hush, Molly, for as I stated this conversation of ours is extremely important so do pay attention!”

Molly found herself staring at him as he paused giving her a stern look…Her lips may or may not have been opened in pure disbelief. He then continued…

“The important thing to remember is that just because we didn’t plan this adventure that we are now on together we both clearly knew that sex created children so really we shouldn’t be gasping like some Victorian lady about to faint away from shock, so let’s loosen that corset and speak honestly. Three things were bound to have happened that certain night. First, would have been _nothing_ would have happened, though the universe would have laughed I’m sure, if that had been the way of things. Second, pregnancy and with the male Holmes’ completely nutters sperm…I will admit I was a bit surprised but felt no despair or strong desire to toss you into the Thames so that says something! Third, you could have given me some sexual disease…thank you for not giving me that horrible gift by the way. Don’t give me that look, you know what I mean. You have horrid, scary taste in men; we don’t know where their dicks have been! Though maybe not completely terrible mind you for you don’t have a disease which to be honest I deduced that _years_ ago and to be honest I always wondered why that mattered especially back then. Or why the words ‘still disease free’ would be detected at the oddest of times…Anyway, your taste in men is still highly questionable so here is another important point to our conversation…”

It was amazing how quickly he could talk but she listened to every word wondering when she would be allowed to add to this supposed _conversation_ …Not at the moment, it looked like for he was still going on…and on…

“I know our child will be the center of your universe and because this child is also mine…and with that horrible taste of yours it goes without saying that well…You can never date… _ever_ …again. I’m not sorry for I simply refuse to allow my child to call someone else ‘daddy’ or ‘father’ or even throw in a ‘step’…no, not happening! _Never_. I swear to you if you attempt to ignore this conversation of ours and try to go out with some idiot…I will be forced to pick up your date and toss him out the window! Now, if I remember correctly, Mrs. Hudson is not very fond of having men land on top of her bins, so you might want to keep that in mind.”

Finally he shut up for a second, letting her ask, “You’re really serious about this aren’t you?”

Moving in with the man she loved? Being told she must now never date…Did she dare hope that maybe... it wasn’t just for the child she had to do these things?

“About throwing out any future date you have out the window? Yes, Molly, I’m serious, why wouldn’t I be? I am also quite serious about everything else that I’ve been speaking of…but you must never fear that I’ll toss you out of the window that is only for men who what to touch your naughty parts. I will never toss you anywhere expect perhaps on to the bed and with your permission of course…and not when you are heavy with child, that’s a given. Now that I am going to become a family man certain things must happen. You _never_ dating or ‘hooking up’ with a guy…will never be happening unless that said guy is me.” Sherlock’s eyes never looked more naked with honesty.

Molly shook her head in pure disbelief. She stood up and began to pace in front of the man who claimed that she was now ‘nutters’ and he was to blame for it! Really, where was that cake to toss into the man’s face when she needed one? Maybe this pregnancy was indeed making her crazy…At least he wasn’t saying they simply ‘had to’ get married…She would have to slap him. Screw what he feels is his duty!

“Sherlock…Perhaps you should take a nice little holiday, yes? All by yourself and leave me alone for a while, hmm?” Molly slowly suggested as a thousand emotions raced through her and she honestly wasn’t sure which one she should deal with first.

Sherlock actually looked highly confused before the look disappeared. It was as if something clicked inside his brilliant head and Molly could clearly read the scary thought, ‘Aw! She is having another nutters moment!’ He nodded, not agreeing with her, obviously, but with himself.

“No. I am already on holiday, Molly, with _you_. Really, I understand that you are pregnant and a bit off your rocker but I do wish you would focus for we are having an important conversation here!” Sherlock reminded her before he leaned over to pick up his cup of tea so he could enjoy a nice little sip. He even made a happy little sound of pleasure…

_“CONVERSATION!?”_ Molly yelled feeling highly offended. “What conversation, you bloody git?! All I have heard is _you_ _telling me_ what is going to happen without much say so from me!”

“Oh, _good_ you have been focusing! I was honestly worried there for a minute. So…Question will we become husband and wife or will we live in sin? It don’t matter to me but for some reason it matters to Mycroft…and John…He’s acting like a future bridesmaid who just caught the flowers…John, not Mycroft…He’s simply threating to tell mummy on me and is already calling our future child a bastard. I see a future of him being punched hard in the face…repeatedly. Not that I can tell the future but I do have a strong feeling about this…So depending on how much and how often you want my brother to be seriously beaten perhaps you should marry me…Not that I’m all that worried about his pompous and annoying face but I know you don’t like seeing people hurt especially when you know them.”

Molly stopped her fast pacing and gasped at him like a live fish out of water…

“What the hell makes you think I’d _marry_ you? O-Or…or…move in with you and stay living with you? Or that I will allow you to toss my future dates out the window? Or let you repeatedly punch your brother in his face and you better warn him that if he calls our child a bastard again _I’ll punch him hard in the face, repeatedly!_ … _ALSO_ and this is an important point so _focus, Sherlock, focus…_ What makes you think I’d allow you to boss me around?”

Sherlock calmly smiled, eyes twinkling before stating knowingly and quite confidently. “Because _you love me_ , Molly Hooper. You know it and me being the great Sherlock Holmes whose business it is to know everything that is important…knows this quite well too. In fact, that very night you repeated it a lot and I even witnessed it in your eyes…they can be the window to one’s soul unless the blinds are closed.”

“All emotions and in particular love stand opposed to the pure cold reason I hold above all things…You once said that, in front a room full of witnesses…” Molly reminded him coldly…Oh, so very coldly.

Sherlock slowly set down his tea, for a moment his lips formed a cruel smirk and amazingly he never once took his eyes off her.

She stood tall and ramrod straight, reading herself for battle.

“Nice. Real nice, Molly.” Sherlock informed her as he stood up. “To be able to quote me like that. I’m impressed, really I am and to be honest…I’m a bit turned on by that…though I doubt that was your intention, yes?”

He moved elegantly towards her and Molly lifted her chin.

“Do you want to continue with the rest of the quote or should I, hmm?” Sherlock questioned as he started to circle her, his smirk had faded but with his serious face he too looked prepared for battle…His hands where now behind his back…He meant business! It was annoying really…it so…so…Sherlock.

“A wedding in my considered opinion is nothing short of a celebration of all that is false—“

“Sherlock…” Molly attempted to interrupt.

“…and specious and irrational and sentimental in this ailing and morally compromised world. Today—“

“Please…Sherlock just stop…”

“We honor the death watch beetle that is the doom of our society and in time, one feels certain, our entire species.”

“STOP IT! Please…Just stop it…” Molly begged.

He stopped in front of her. So very close that Molly could actually feel his body heat that he was so close…

**_“You_** _**started it.”**_ Sherlock declared accusingly as he lowered his voice to say, “And I _never_ once claimed that I would never help doom our society or our entire species…For you and _only for you_ would I actually doom our society…”

Wait…Was Sherlock actually saying…Molly found herself swallowing hard.

He continued, there was something…a deep meaningful warmth…a strong hope that she would understand what he was indeed saying within his eagle sharp eyes of his.

“There was a time that I honestly thought I’d never have a best friend, especially a best friend like John and yet…John had unknowingly proved me wrong…on so many levels in fact. You, Molly…have also proven me wrong on a profound and different level that I didn’t know was possible…You see, for some time now…long before your pregnancy or even the delightful sex we both experienced…W-Well…Um, I’m uncertain when exactly it was that you began proving me wrong. Perhaps it was when I trusted you to help me in my hour of need when I had the final showdown with Moriarty. You helped me fake my death and kept it secret for two years. As much as I hate to admit this…You…you make me _feel_ human and at times I don’t really like it. John told me once that I am the best and the wisest man he has ever known but the truth is if I am the likely hood is that you made me that way. All I know is all the signs are there even you can deduct them if you are willing. Molly…that night…When you were kidnapped and placed in that coffin and then put in the ground…That night I had to accept all the signs that I had done my damnest to ignore. I honestly fought against it because I didn’t want to accept the fact I did indeed have a weakness when it came to you…But it was quite clear and I couldn’t deny the signs any more…For when you have eliminated the impossible whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth…and after much review I have deduced that you are my truth.”

“A-are you…you saying…” Molly gasped for a breath, almost afraid to ask it but bravely said the words anyway…knowing Sherlock’s response could shatter her heart… “That…that you love me, Sherlock?”

Sherlock’s lips curved slightly before his slender fingers tenderly reached up and wiped away the tears she had been unknowingly cried.

“Yes, of course that is what I’m saying. I might never speak the words out loud to you but I do hope that you will never doubt that what is there is real. If you observe closely perhaps you will detect…I hope…what I was forced to realize and maybe handle it better than I did. Anyway, if you pay attention you will find the clues quite obvious and see exactly why I plan to never leave your side…I will still take cases, of course, just as you will continue to work at the morgue but I plan to be with you if you ever turn off the lights…or stay with you when they are on. After our day of fun and play…I plan to still remain your Sherlock for the rest of our days…”

Molly reached up with shaking hands to Sherlock’s waist and began to press herself up close against him. Feeling comforted…Feeling…Loved? All she really knew was that Sherlock, _her_ Sherlock, embraced her right back in return before he continued, “I know that I’ve stated before that I’m married to my work but I’m willing to turn my work into a mistress…I hope you understand what I’m saying, really I do. You see, you are so much more than I can even express in words…I do hope you are agreeable to making us legal. I do fear that John and Mycroft are already acting like two teenage girls over the fact I impregnated you and I fear it’s only a matter of time before Mummy and Mrs. Hudson gets in on the action…”

“I’m…I’m very agreeable Sherlock…If you are certain?” Molly asked with a shaky smile…She almost felt…alive…There was now a spark of something….Something real and true.

“Trust me, I’m very sure. Just like if you are going to go around quoting me, how about… ‘Sherlock Holmes is better than a vibrator’?”

Molly could it help it she laughed and he gave her a mock glare as he stated to her, “What, that quote is a great quote! In fact it’s better than the quotes John writes in those silly blogs of his! Also, you can quote that back to me any time your big little heart wants to…Okay, that laughter sounds like a challenge, Dr. Hooper…”

“Well, if you are going to go around saying things like, Mr. Holmes, without even proof to back up that quote…”

“No _proof_! Oh, you are on dangerous ground woman!”

With a bright humorous sparkle in her brown eyes, “Well, really what do you expect? You made me completely nutters with your wicked Holmes’ sperm…I have a suspicion that I need a friendly little reminder or…proof…if you…are you know…are, um, _up to it_?”

Sherlock gave a huge laugh, his eyes also sparkled and there was even something else there as well…Desire.

“You should be glad, Molly, that I can’t get you any _more_ pregnant than you already are…Really glad…”

“However, it sure can be fun trying!” Molly declared before she reached up and kissed him like the woman who knew their love was real and true…So very true…

Of course, Sherlock willingly and passionately returned the kiss for no matter what his brother believed he too could be quite smart…

(End of part 4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now there will be a part 5, the very last part, for really Sherlock must say the words, it will be a small part so hopefully I will have it ready soon. The rough draft at the moment is simply too rough, but never fear it will be given to you. Unless you want to stop reading now it is indeed your choice…
> 
> Otherwise encouragement is always loved and does make me not be too lazy with my stories or parts…
> 
> Much love…  
> 221bMoonunit


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kudos and comments, you guys are simply wonderful. It truly has kept me working on this and my other stories...
> 
> Thank you again and I hope you enjoy this last part...
> 
> Countless hugs,  
> 221bMoonunit

~*~The Disappearance~*~

~*~Part 5 ~*~

_‘Oh, sir, do you not think that you could help me, too, and at least throw a little light through the dense darkness with surrounds me?’_

-The Speckled Band by Arthur Conan Doyle

_And then…some flutter of life…spoke of the slowly returning life._

-The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

~*~SHERLOCK~*~

So it came to pass that Molly Holmes did indeed observe over the years that her husband, Sherlock, had meant everything word he had spoken that night over at Sholto’s cabin so long ago. He was always near, or by her side…Unless he was out of town for a few days on a case that he deemed an eight and above then she had always been ordered to bug her brother-in-law…Mycroft had even stopped by a time or two when Sherlock had gone….Anyway, Sherlock made share he was somehow close by whenever she needed him.

Countless times he had held her when she’d have horrible nightmares…and he’d even make sure all the lights remained on…and more importantly if they were ever turned off, Sherlock made certain he was there…He never rolled his eyes or even mocked her when she always double or tripled checked the doors or windows…Though she knew he could have quite easily, yet he never did. Sometimes he would even make sure she noticed that he was checking on them as well…Just for her…making her feel loved…special.

Sherlock was there as well as the main people in their circle when Molly gave birth to their son…And he then proudly made her ‘completely nutters’ again a couple of years later…then one more time just for the hell of it. He warned his sons, not so much his daughter for she had nothing to worry about, that if they ever decide to plant their seed, their women would become nutters. Telling stories he had heard as a boy, even Mycroft took delight telling them stories…Though mostly he shared the crazy things he felt Molly had done while with child. Like sleeping with Sherlock-though really if one thought about this one—seriously they think Mycroft’s the smart one? _And_ then marrying him for example. There may have even been a story told about her trying to save a cat and her kittens in a freaky icy storm…All while ‘heavy with child’ as her husband enjoyed calling it….Though she swears that wasn’t crazy at all….now getting lost and having Sherlock go a little ape shit, that was crazy!

Though Molly had realized over the years that his favorite a pregnant Holmes story didn’t involve her…No it was a tale he told every Christmas because the story about some old fart who must have taken drugs and saw three stupid ghosts didn’t really need to be told in their household anyway. For Sherlock thought the greedy bastard in the classic story had been more interesting before he thought Christmas was the best thing ever…No the one he loved telling was about a clever ancestor who while pregnant of course, killed her cheating abusive husband…mostly by framing him for the murder of his mistress…Supposedly the wife hadn’t killed the mistress but when the mistress killed herself the wife thought…what the hell? She had made it look like a murder that pointed directly to her dear sweet, ‘it’s your fault that you made me hit you’ husband allowing the law of the land to hang him. Of course another Holmes male knew all this and was even a decent detective back in that day, but let her get away with it because he never liked that particular relation…Supposedly; according to legend the murdered man had been a rubbish brother as well as an abusive asshole… Plus, it had happened in the late 1780’s so Sherlock thought without the science they had today, of course, he felt certain tons of stupid people probably ended up getting away with murder.

Anyway…Through telling of crazy stories and countless adventures…there was even a fire or two…and a fake haunting…many adventures, actually…Sherlock was always there. He tried to show her though his actions that she was his truth, his heart, his Molly…

He warned her time and time again he wasn’t a romantic man but that didn’t matter, he was her man.

Always her Sherlock.

Over the years she told him time and time again of her love for him. He’d simply smile and say, ‘I know.’

That was all.

Molly never demanded that he repeat the words back to her…She had found that she never needed the words. Molly simply _knew_ that Sherlock loved her back. So what if he never said the words…She believed that he loved her back by observing the signs that he left daily for her.

So together Sherlock and Molly grew older as did their children…Both Sherlock and her watched over them and were loving parents…Though Molly still never knew quite what to say when ever Sherlock would turn to one of their children and say in a ‘doesn’t really matter’ tone, “I know your mum is still a bit nutters and it’s my fault but please note that life will continue on even if there is nothing new under sun…”

Really, what could she say to that?

Her children didn’t seem to mind the questionable body parts in the fridge or Sherlock’s science experiments and chemicals that always took over their kitchen…Or the fact their mum left all the lights burning most of the time or constantly check the windows or doors whenever she was home…Sometimes her lovely children would even silently hand her a golf club…

 

Molly had thought it sweet until one day her oldest son, Johnny, at eight asked if she’d like to learn how to properly shatter someone’s skull with it…She told him ‘no’ and then he asked if she would like to teach him how to do it then…

Later Molly’s teenage daughter would attempt to hand her a harpoon.

Gee, life in the Holmes house hold was never boring!

Their children were now grown. One becoming a well-known and quite a know-it-all doctor…another becoming a detective much like her father and their youngest was a Vet who could tell what was wrong with an animal…and sometimes even a human…with simply a glance…He was also a popular mystery writer who pissed off his readers when he murdered one of his beloved characters in a beloved series. ‘That character was going to kill me if I didn’t…’ He would later say in an interview…He also liked to write steamy historical romances under another name…

Life even went on when Sherlock decided to retire after taking a case for his brother where he pretended to be an American spy to catch some major badie. Of course, he caught him but to his annoyance he seriously damaged his knee and his good friend had been taken to the hospital. John had nearly lost his life that night… John was fine but they both had a heartfelt talk…One that the lifelong friends had known for a while had been coming…They both were old and well…perhaps it was time to retire and hang up that silly deerstalker and let the blogs fall silent…

 _Unless_ , absolutely necessary of course…They felt sure there would be times that they could take up a case now and then but otherwise…

Life when on.

Molly and Sherlock no longer lived at their beloved Baker Street. Instead they had ended up at a cottage in Sussex. That girl Sherlock had tricked all those years ago to get into her boss’s office…Janine had willed her cottage to him with a note that Sherlock received when she had passed away. Seeing that she had bought the cottage with the money that she received after she had sold her story to the tabloids and how they were ‘good now’…Janine wanted him to have it. Maybe to remember the lies and pain Sherlock had given the poor soul and perhaps feel guilty…Or maybe it was because Janine had genuinely liked Sherlock and was grateful that he never allowed…no matter how much she tried to tempted him…to use her sexually.

He would let her use his flat and his bed but he’d always run off to ‘work an important case’ and maybe ‘later’…

Sherlock told Molly he had told Janine, so not to hurt her feelings, for yes he could be a sod but he was waiting for ‘after they got married’ which was _never_ going to happen.

Plus…what if Sherlock had gotten Janine nutters? He actually shuttered when Molly said this and he muttered something about ‘good thing I didn’t sleep with her or it would have been the Thames for her’…

Anyway, seeing that Sherlock and Molly had reached retirement age they decided to go live there and for some reason he wanted to keep bees…She simply joined a knitting club and learned how to make jumpers. She was working on one at home that she was certain her daughter was going to love and was quite excited about it.

At the moment she wasn’t working on the sweater in question but out for a loving morning walk with her husband. No matter how much his knee would bother him at times they would enjoy their walks together. There were walks where not a word was spoken simply holding her hand. Most of the times they talked, sometimes about the past but mostly the future…and as parents do they talked about their children…even when they talked they would touch each other. Sherlock’s hand gentle upon her back or even her hand on his elbow or in his strong confident hand…and as of late his free hand always held a good walking stick…

They would walk along the coastline and took a familiar path that could be a bit steep, a little rocky and sometimes a bit slippery…But what kind of path would Sherlock Holmes take, even with a messed up knee? A safe one? Right… Yet she always felt safe knowing it was just his way of still having a little adventure in his life…

Molly found herself smiling which, okay, some would judge her to be a rubbish of a human being, when on this lovely warm day they both came upon the body of one of their neighbors…A Mr. McPherson…Okay, to be technical they had come upon him right before he died in what seemed to be great pain…That wasn’t what made her smile. She had liked the man even if he was a bit grumpy and a tad bit rude at times…She had smiled because her husband instantly was on the case. Like a puppy finding a bone. He started to deduce and make a big mystery out of it. Perhaps if she had allowed her husband to continue he would have attempted to write a blog about it in hopes to impress John.

But she had known instantly that there was no great mystery to be solved…No, their great mystery was what they were having for lunch when they returned home.

So giving her husband a beautiful and bright smile she gently and quite confidently found herself saying.

“Sorry, Love, there is no mystery to this. Lion’s mane or ‘ _Cyanca capillata’_ is what killed our neighbor. A simply silly accident, I’m sure. The news this morning has been warning people to stay away from the water for the next few days for these rare creatures have appeared…They never stay for long, mind you, and sometimes they don’t kill their victims but in some cases like this one…” Molly shrugged. “My guess is he either ignored the warnings and the sign that is over there…” She calmly pointed to it. “Or he didn’t see it nor heard the news…”

Sherlock sighed and even pouted a little as he eyed the body. “So, there really is no mystery to be had here then…Shame. You would think if I just happened to stumble upon a body during one of my morning walks there would be some sort of mystery…puzzle or adventure to be had. Yet, it’s not even more than a two…”

“Nope.” She mischievously popped the ‘p’ making Sherlock look at her with a grin. With that she pulled out her phone and called the police.

They didn’t take long and Sherlock watched proudly as she told them what happened and they pretty much confirmed what she had said…and they continued on their walk…

Well, sort of continued…Sherlock for some reason had come to a complete stop. With her hand in his she came to a jerking stop and almost stumbled but he made sure she didn’t fall. He cleared his throat.

“Molly, I believe we need to have an important conversation…” He stated without much emotion.

“Does this important conversation start off like the one when I was pregnant with our daughter, ‘Wow, I must say Molly, if your ass gets any bigger the moon just might end up being pulled out of its orbit?’”

Sherlock blinked at her. “No and I swore I was sorry. I like your ass and it’s a fine ass. It’s still a mighty fine ass. Let’s not bring up something that ended up with me sleeping over at my brother’s for a couple of days! I learned my lesson. I was dealing with a case that wasn’t working out the way it was supposed to and tried to take it out on you. So Sorry! _Again!_ No, I believe it’s time…To tell you something important, um, very important.”

Molly took a deep breath…Knowing this all important conversation could be… something to ‘can I use your toe nail clippings for an experiment?’…to ‘let’s go stake out the old cemetery tonight and see if we can catch some grave robbers’…to even, ‘How would you feel about _borrowing_ a corpse and keeping it in our kitchen for a few days?’…’what is your favorite poison, I bet mine is better…’

“Okay.” She said softly, “What would you like to say that is so very important…Do be warned, if it’s you no longer want our crap to hang out anymore, my dad’s old golf club is going to be swinging towards your groin…”

“You have violent tendencies but I like that about you. No, our crap is quite happy together.” Sherlock told her quickly before he moistened his lips before continuing, “That night… _the night_ …I never told you but I’m glad it happened. Not you being put in a coffin with a corpse, of course…but…the next morning before Lestrade texted me about some case…I was surprised to find that I really didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay and I also didn’t want it to be a one night only thing…I…I wasn’t sure how to tell you that and I wasn’t sure what to do. I thought it best to let you make the next move, if you wanted. Though after some time I seriously thought about making John woo you for me. Don’t give me that look. You know my methods are not in romance and John could easily recycle some of those stupid poems he use to write to his old girlfriends and perhaps buy you things in my name. Or at least find some way to let you know that I wanted some type of relationship…more than friends’ type, of course. I was even writing you a song…The one I played for you on our honeymoon…”

“I remember…” Molly replied, looking at him with all the love that was in her heart for him.

His eyes were full of warmth and something else. “When you left London without telling me, I was more than a little hurt and worried. I needed you near…and then John told me about your pregnancy…I was so happy…after I recovered from the shock…I knew I could and would use that…I meant all that I said in that little cabin. Everything, and Molly, to this very day you have remained my truth…my world…and my love. Always…I’m not good at this sort of thing, but I must say it… _I love you_ and I know I always will.”

He said the words with such honesty…For the first time, after so many years.

Molly continued to look at the man she loved with all her heart, not knowing her beautiful smile filled the old retired consulting detective with a bright overwhelming warmth that touched his very soul.

Molly felt completely alive. For some time actually she felt this way…and she felt warm…the icy coldness seemed to be gone…She definitely didn’t feel as if she was trapped in a blasted coffin.

With her free hand she reached up and caressed her husband’s cheek and found herself saying with steadfast honesty, “I know, Sherlock, I know.”

 _‘I know’_ …the same response he had always given her in return to her own decorations of love and she did indeed know…He had proved it time and time again…and Molly knew he would continue to do so…

Sherlock smiled happily and leaned over to brush her lips with his.

“Let’s go home and I’ll show you just how much I love you, hmm…” He suggested seductively.

“Yes, and maybe for once you’ll actually prove you’re better than a vibrator…” Molly teased with a giggle.

“Oh, once more you are on dangerous ground, woman…but I’m smart enough to accept your challenge!”

So together, always together, they went back across the jagged, mostly rocky and slightly slippery yet always familiar path that would faithfully lead them home…

(THE END)


End file.
